


This Is Not The Season 4

by Tolpen



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Afterlife, Angels vs. Demons, Blackmail, Canon-Typical Torture, Complicated Relationships, Don't copy to another site, Dubious Ethics, Ethics, Families are problematic matter, Fluff and Angst, Headcanon, Memory Alteration, Metaphors Made Real, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Season/Series 03, Psychological Torture, Robots with feelings, Shawn gets to say "fuck" but only once, Spoilers, The lesser evil is still big
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-06 12:06:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18850741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tolpen/pseuds/Tolpen
Summary: I have been convinced by Sewerchat to wrangle my headcanons theories about the development of The Good Place after season 3 into a fic. This is that fic.In the Neighbourhood "the Good Place" the Soul Squad has some difficulties: Chidi does not remember them, Eleanor must pose as the Architect, Tahani forgot mango juice, Jason is a bit lost and the Bad Place led by Shawn is making things as difficult as possible.





	1. Index

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the list of all Chapters-slash-episodes of Season 4 of the Good Place.  
> (Please note that each Chapter consists of more parts)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's called teaser and also author planning, which is something I have never done before. But now I have a structure for this story. Wild, isn't it? I know how it stars, what's in the middle bits, and how it ends! It feels weird!

Index - Bing! You are here right now, you can read the synopsis for each upcoming chapter. Isn't that great? You are right, it isn't! It's wonderful!

Chapter 40: Just Between Us Architects – Eleanor pretends she is the Architect of "the Good Place." It seems to be easy to pretend omniscience until the moment it isn't.

Chapter 41: The Buried Hatched – The last of the humans meant for testing arrive into the project and of course the Bad Place picks someone the most tormenting. Tahani does not believe in the existence of auras, but participates in aura make-up class anyway.

Chapter 42: Ultimatum – Three important decisions are to be made and each seems to cost Team Roach at least one member, but maybe Derek can help.

chapter 43: What Roaches Deserve – Shawn is not opposed to negotiation, but he still wants to have the upper hand. Eleanor has to figure out how to handle the Neighbourhood on her own

Chapter 44: You Forgot This – Michael is certain his four humans and Janet should know the truth, no matter how painful it is.

Chapter 45: The Best Architect – Janet returns something stolen which nobody really wanted back

Chapter 46: Inventing Janet – Janet is in a shock after she learns how she had come to be, which is dangerous for the Neighbourhood, and not everyone is there for her when she needs them the most.

chapter 47: The Grand Train Theft – It is time to steal something very precious from the heart of the Bad Place headquarters. Or at least Shawn thinks so.

Chapter 48: Kamilah Al-Jamil – Kamilah's art has been inspired by life and life has been inspired by her life. But inspiration is not enough when courage is needed. Kamilah must be very brave.

chapter 49: Good Trevor – When two delegations from the Good Place and the Bad Place decide to take a visit, it is not only a shock for the whole Neighbourhood, but mainly for the delegations themselves. It raises a lot of questions.

Chapter 50: Inside Out – Simone is very sure that this isn't how a neurosurgeon should be working, but she is excited to look at Michael's head anyway.

Chapter 51: The End – Mindy St. Claire is glad to have her backyard back, her new friend speaks about the worth, salvaging and damnation of the humanity, and Jason is set loose in the kitchen.

Chapter 52: Everything Is Okay - The people from Accounting aren't happy, but they also aren't unhappy. End of chapter description. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean. I didn't think people would comment here. But please, comment here, I'll be delighted.


	2. Chapter 40: Just Between Us Architects (part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chidi is new to the afterlife, again, Tahani and Jason are preparing the welcome party, and Michael and Eleanor are trying not to lose hold of the situation or themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Initially I thought that I would write it in the style of "One Chapter Per 'Episode' but then I've noticed how long it is, so I thought I wouldn't dump a bucket of text at you and split it into two or three parts. It can be changed if you will it.

“Welcome. Everything is fine.” The statement is green on white and Chidi feels relieved to read it. He has no idea where he is, but he is welcomed there, which is good. And everything is fine, which is... fine, he supposes. He has this feeling he has died, but if the writing on the wall says it is fine, then there is nothing to be worried about.

He turns his head when he hears a door click open on his left. There is a blonde white woman looking at him and he is looking at her. He finds himself hoping that he is wearing his blue shirt and light brown vest, because that is his best outfit and he wants to make a good impression on this woman. She looks like an angel in her rainbow-stripe jumper. That would make sense, for her to be an angel, right? Given he is dead and all of it. Maybe his guardian angel? Oh, he probably wouldn't be that lucky.

“Chidi,” she smiles and it looks a bit forced, but then she motions her head towards wherever it is she came from and if he doesn't get it, she adds: “Come on in.”

The office is neat and clean, there is a lot of wood – the desk is a massive piece, there is wood on the walls, one, no two large airy windows, a display case and a lot of drawers, evergreen potted plants, a bowl of paperclips and two photographs of a man, one young, one much older, but if the assigned plate is to be trusted, they both are the same Doug Forcett.

The angel seats Chidi in a chair and then slides behind the desk and rustles some papers with a careful busy expression before saying: “You, Chidi Anagoye, are dead.” Chidi watches her lips, because he has already examined the office a bit too much without turning around. That's why he notices that the angel does not speak actual French as he hears it, and also that she has rehearsed his name to pronounce it properly. He feels a bit flattered actually.

“But don't worry, everything is fine. You have lead a remarkable life on Earth, you helped a great many people, and for that you are now in the Good Place.”

“Is that something like, I don't know, Heaven?”

“Well, not exactly,” the angel bites her lip. “But close enough. Maybe it would be easier if I just show you a bit around? Tomorrow there will be a neighbourhood meeting to introduce you all before the party, but you still should know some things.”

“I'm sorry, did you say neighbourhood? And party? Umm... Miss...?”

“Oh, where are my manners! Apologies, I'm Eleanor. My bad. Oh, I can't believe I forgot to introduce myself!” She bangs her head with a folder of papers a couple of times in frustration. Then, as if nothing happened, she fixes her hair back into order and opens the door.

“Let's go, Chidi. I have to show you around.”

  
  


_Bing!_

  
  


“This place sure has a lot of frozen yogurt.”

“People like frozen yogurt. I don't really understand why, but as long as it makes you happy... I'm always trying to come up with new flavour, though. What is your Little-Bit-Of-Everything even like?”

“It's like a little bit of everything. It's perfect!” Chidi beams at Eleanor, a blue plastic spoon between his teeth. The Good Place really is amazing. Little crooked sunny streets, mildly warm weather which is excellent for a nap, the people seem so nice. And they are going to be his neighbours! He didn't have to talk to them, but they made it clear that they'd love to listen, which was very new for Chidi. His little apartment is in the centre of this... town? Neighbourhood. It is cosy and it has a scattered dusty library with so many many books. Eleanor keeps repeating that if it is not to his liking in any sort of manner, he must tell her.

“Oh, there is Michael. Hi Michael!”

The older man with white hair was poking around his frozen yoghurt, sitting on the edge of a fountain in a three piece suit, and in spite of finding himself in the most perfect paradise Chidi could imagine, he looked more than a bit under the weather.

“Chidi, this is Michael. Michael, this is Chidi Anagoye.” As Eleanor introduces them, Michael rises to his feet and forces a smile. Chidi has seen smiles like that; Eleanor has been giving him these smiles all day long.

“Very happy to see you here, Professor Anagoye.”

“Please, just Chidi.”

“As you wish, Chidi. How is our Architect doing?” Michal is rocking on his heels while pretending to be very interested in his snack. It's very easy to get sea-sick just by watching him.

“A bit nervous. It's my first big project,” Eleanor chuckles and so does Michael. Chidi doesn't get the joke, but the other man, Chidi already wonders whether he should propose to become glass-buddies or not, puts a hand on his shoulder very gently and sits him down.

“You see, Eleanor has worked in the Good Place architecture for a good row of years now, but always only as a builder. This is the first project the has ever been given on her own, making her a solid and good Architect. Now, she's nervous, every Architect is a bit nervous when it comes to the first job they do alone.” That sounds very reasonable, Chidi remembers his first school presentation and understands Eleanor _perfectly_. Michael, too, sounds like he is speaking from experience. “But she is a very good at this job and she is working with great people like you are. I am very confident she is going to do better than good.”

“I see. Excuse me, Michael, I don't want to pry, but... What exactly it is you do here? You don't seem... Well...” Words aren't hard t use, but sometimes it is troublesome to find the right one.

“That I don't seem dead? Human? That's because I am not, like Eleanor here. I am her personal Assistant. That is something between a helping hand and overseer of the project. You see, I am supposed to help with running this place, but also learn from this.”

“I'm not sure I really get this,” Chidi admits and hopes it is better to look like an idiot for five minutes rather than to be idiot for the rest of his afterlife.

Michael doesn't look at him like he is an idiot, in fact he looks very pleased that he has the chance to explain: “See, I am an Architect too, or rather I was. But before this I was working in the Dog Affairs, I made Neighbourhoods for dogs. But very recently, fifty years ago or so, which is like a week ago for you, they transferred me to Human Affairs. And how to put this,” Michael rubs his chin and looks at Eleanor who is still politely standing in front of them and beaming like sunshine. “I don't know a fork about humans.”

“A... fork?”

“Oh, that is just the bad language filter. You can't swear here. It's installed in every Neighbourhood in the Good Place, which is sometimes irritating, but there isn't much of a reason to swear anyway, because this is the paradise and everything goes fine,” Eleanor explains helpfully. “But it preserves the dynamics of the word, and maybe it is more creative to call super annoying jerks a _tick_ , because they are, metaphorically speaking, sucking up your blood.”

“Wow” is all Chidi can say. “This sure is a lot to think about and process. Would you mind if I headed home for a while? Maybe we could finish the tour later or... Is there, like, a guide to this place?”

“Oh, sure,” Michael jumps up and rubs his hands together. “Janet?”

Bing! Cheerful computer chimes should be taking some notes here, this is what they should sound like. They, however, don't have to pop out a cheerfully looking lady which doesn't even need a name tag saying _Secretary_ because it radiates from every fibre of her being. She is also knee-deep in the fountain. She steps out and doesn't seem bothered by the water dripping from her skirt.

“Hi there! What can I do for you?”

Chidi slowly stands up. Why are people appearing out of nowhere? “Hello. I am sorry, who are you and... Why did you appear out of thin air?”

The woman in blue turns around and partially obscures Michael and Eleanor grinning and high-fiving. The brown hair is kept out of her face in a decorated bun/updo/whatever, Chidi doesn't know the name, and the light reflects from her skin wrongly. She says: “Hello Chidi. I am Janet, the database of all information and items you could possibly ever want. Usually I reside in a separate but related dimension to this which I call my void, because it is empty, and I can walk out of it anywhere I want, making it seem I appear out of nowhere. I can provide you with any piece of information or object you ask for, sort of like if I was Wikipedia and Amazon in one being, but I provide only the objective truth and don't make anyone work themselves to the bone for a greedy billionaire. Do you want to test it? Ask me about anything.”

“Okay.” Chidi is trying not to overthink this, so he asks the first question that pops into his head: “Whose was that orange hairbrush I found in my apartment on 5th December 2007?”

“It belongs to Filippa, the sister of your then-girlfriend Judy.” Upon hearing that, Eleanor makes a weird face, but Janet who is facing Chidi, does not see it, and continues in her cheerful manner: “She came to your flat the previous morning while you were at the conference in New Zealand. She needed a place to stay for a while because her husband was, quote, a piece of crappy trash, unquote, and she had just decided she needed to get out of it. She forgot to pack her hairbrush when she was leaving, and Judy lied to you, because she thought you would not believe her had the told you the truth. Fun fact: Filippa's husband, Mikeh, died in a car accident he caused and is now in the Bad Place tortured for eternity.”

“Serves him right,” Michael mumbles into the last spoonful of his frozen yoghurt. It is loud enough for them to hear, and too quiet enough for them to respond politely. But it is not quiet enough for Chidi and Eleanor not to give him a look; Chidi's is confused, Eleanor's is very disapproving. Michael throws hands in defence: “I have read that man's file actually, so I mean it. He was definitely not an okay person and he had a lot of opportunities and even direct invitations to become one. Yet he chose to be directly harmful to everyone he met.”

“Fun fact,” Janet exclaims with a bright smile, “that's true. Also that quote about him being a piece of crappy trash is mine. I was quoting myself. Haha haha ha!” It is less a real laughter and more of “haha haha ha” pronounced.

“Alright, Janet, could you please give Chidi here a guide to the Neighbourhood?” Eleanor asks, turning the page before anyone could stop her. Chidi admires her decisivity.

Bing! Now Janet is holding a thin book. It has a light green cover with a white title saying “A Guide to the Good Place by Janet.” She hands it to him. “There are also graphs and diagrams, I know you like these things. I know this because I know everything!”

“Thank you, Janet,” everyone says at a different pace and in a different tone. With another cheerful bing, Janet is gone.

“Do you want any company while you go home?”

“No, thank you, Eleanor. You must be very busy, setting up the Neighbourhood for everyone, so I shouldn't be hogging all your time. Thank you and see you around. See you around, Michael!”

“Oh. Okay. Bye!”

“See you later, Chidi!”

Later when he runs up the stairs and the door click shut behind him, Chidi thinks that maybe Eleanor wanted to escort him home. Which... would have been nice. One thing was certain: She and Michael were angels. He had never seen anyone looking more like angels.

  
  


_Bing!_

  
  


“Holy forking shirt!”

“It's okay, Eleanor, breathe. And please, stop throwing papers.” Michael is talking in his most calming voice, which makes Eleanor even more angry, because it is working. She slams Chidi's file on the desk and winces at the loud sound.

“I can't do this. I can't.” She falls to her knees on the carpet.

Michael sighs and moves from the paperclip bowl down next to her. “Well, that makes two of us then. I am afraid of another failure, and you are afraid of... of whatever can happen with Chidi. Or whatever is _not_ going to happen, I suppose.”

“We're forked.” Eleanor takes Michael around the shoulders.

“Yep, we pretty much are.”

“Hey, don't sound so happy about that.”

“Sorry, I can't really help it. We have been forked up ever since you found out about the Bad Place thing for the first time, and it has been nearly four hundreds years for me since then. But after these four hundred hears, I'm finally admitting it: I'm forked. We are forked.” Then he laughs, it's almost hysterical.

“What is it?”

“Nothing it's... I am actually saying forked, as in the cutlery. It's not the swearing ban making me say it.”

Now Eleanor laughs too. It hurts in her chest and she has to stop laughing once she can't breathe, and there are tears rolling down her face. She and Michael are grimacing and red in faces, and when they look at each other they start laughing again and can't stop.

“We have to get up. I have work I must pretend to do while you actually do it.”

“Oh yes, Eleanor, about that-”

“Now you sound serious and I'm not sure I like that,” Eleanor grumbles as she helps Michael to his feet and straightens his bow tie, the peacock one.

“I had an idea about the soulmates. Regarding Chidi, I mean.” Light smile is playing around the immortal's lips and he isn't even aware of it. His eyes gleam with stars, so whatever that idea is, he must be sure it's awesome. And he is very excited about it, because he is swaying from left to right with his head and hips.

“Alright, my _Assistant,_ ” she'd love to sound defeated, but is instead interested. “What pretty lie is up your sleeve?”

Michael opens the back door of the office (they haven't agreed whose office it is, whether still his or now hers, so they call it just the office) and gestures at his idea.

Eleanor gasps. “Michael... This. Is. Perfect!”

“I know. It's my job, after all.”

  
  


_Bing!_

  
  


“What do you think, Jason?” Tahani asks.

“Umm...”

“Blue and white or black and gold?”

Jason has no idea why dress should matter this much or why does Tahani think he can give her a good advice here. “Both look nice. Why not wear both of them?”

“Jason! I can't wear two dresses at once! And I still cannot possibly decide. This goes better with my skin, but this one in in the colours of the welcoming party.” Tahani watches Jason make a play of looking around at the decorations and sighs. “Of course, they are blue, but blue goes with green. They are both cool colours and I wouldn't want to blend into the background like Anne Hathaway did at Kirsten's birthday party in- Whatever, not important.”

“So,” Jason thinks out loud, “What if you dance two numbers?”

“Excuse me?”

“You are always excused. Besides I can't smell anything, so if you hadn't said it, I would have no idea you did it.”

“What? Oh no! Jason, that's not what I meant at all. I just begged your pardon because I didn't understand what you meant.”

“I meant that you apologized for farting, which is cool of you, but not necessary.”

Tahani drapes both of the dress over the birch-wood chair with green satin cushioning and does not groan or scream out loud, although she really, really wants to. “No, Jason. What was it you said about dancing two numbers?”

“Oh that!” Jason smiles widely and plops down on the mainly green partially silver sofa. “Okay, so back in Jacksonville I had this 60-men dance crew.”

“Yes I know, you've mentioned them thousands of times, plus all the times we all don't remember because our memories were erased.” Tahani adjusts the already perfect setting of the table just to have something to do. I does not help, but it feels perfect-er. She giggles at the thought.

Unfortunately, Jason takes it as an encouragement and continues to explain to her this story about a huge dance-off that had happened. “They didn't want to let us back to finish it, though, so we went to the back, stole some guys' costumes, and then pretended we are a completely different band dancing a whole different number. We didn't win, but those guys also lost, and we got to dance two numbers in one night, so that was awesome.”

Tahani is only half listening, but she gasps at the thought. “So... What you are trying to tell me here is that I can wear one dress at the beginning and then change later?”

“Sure, if that's what you want or if the jury wants to throw you out for starting a riot. Although, Michael would be probably sad if we started a riot, so we shouldn't do that. Unless you think it's a good idea, of course, because then it is a good idea. I can help you start a riot, I am very good at that.”

“No, no, thank you. I think I am fine without a riot. But it is our seventh backup plan.” That seems to cheer Jason up, so he barrel-rolls off the sofa and stays on the floor with the monk robe over his head.

“Tahani? I am sorry that the Bad Place picked up someone really horrible for you to be around. And it also sucks that we had to make Chidi forget because his ex is now here-”

“Oh, Chidi had that idea on his own!” Tahani cannot hide how furious she is about that still. Chidi's situation makes her far more angry than John Wheaton, which feels... odd.

“It still sucks. And the other two people are arriving later today. Who do you think it will be?”

“Someone horrible, I'm sure.”

“Michael said earlier that I should play the silent soulmate thing again with one of them. No idea what that _again_ part meant, though”

“Do you think you could do it with John?” Tahani looks at her very own person Jacksonville trash who suddenly seems to be a heaven-sent help.

“Sure,” Jason nods. “If it's okay with Michael. He is the... What had you called it earlier?”

“Puppeteering son of a beach?” Tahani supplies without giving it a second thought.

“I heard the words _puppeteering son of a beach,_ ” Michael leans into the doorframe, “and had the feeling you were talking about me. Did I do something wrong this time, do you need me to help with something, or are you just gossiping behind my back and I should let you spill the tea in peace and... go elsewhere?”

Tahani can only stare, she feels the blood in her cheeks, she is going to go as red as a too ripe tomato. She can't believe Michael heard her talking about him like that when he was... actually a quite decent person, at least these days, she supposes. She also cannot believe that Michael is not taking it personally.

While she is struck silent with her shame, Jason waves at the demon (Is he actually a demon?), calls him a buddy, twice, and homie, once, and tells him to join them and tell which dress are prettier for Tahani. And Michael seems very happy, he is smiling, and says that the blue and white dress fit better the decoration but the black and gold seem more complimenting Tahani's looks, why doesn't she wear both of them at once?

He takes both dress, one hanger in each hand, and then clashes them together. It looks like a parlour trick, because he actually ends up with one dress which are... Very complicated to look at.

They seem to be black in the base design, but it changes to blue when one moves their head, and then back to black and blue again. The sequins, no those are beetle wings, as in from actual beetles as Tahani now realizes, shift from silver to gold, much like the lace.

“Michael, those are beautiful. But I can't wear them.”

“I don't see any reason why you couldn't. You're going to be the jewel of the party.” Michael's smile drops while confusion takes place. Michael makes cute confused faces, Tahani decides, the way he frowns a bit and his pupil dilate and he licks his canines with closed mouth and thinks nobody notices it, his fingers wiggle and usually he takes something small nearby, toys with it and then stuffs it in his pocket. Yes, he did it right now with the fork.

Tahani takes the fork out and puts it back. It takes her a couple of minutes of fiddling to put it in the exactly perfect-most position it was before, and because she knows she is stalling and she shouldn't, she confronts the problem while dealing with the silverware: “Because they are open back, Michael. I can't wear dress with open back.”

“I still don't understand the problem. Do they not hold on you properly?” Michael has his hands raised and is swaying from side to side like a hypnotizing snake.

Jason doesn't as much as jump to conclusion as he somersaults to it: “Do you have an embarrassing tattoo on your back? Because if you do,” his face gets suddenly serious, “I know how to cover that.”

“No,” Tahani sighs, her perfect shoulders rising and falling perfectly as she throws herself dramatically on the sofa, also perfectly. “It's just... My parents, you know, they always told me that I haven't the right figure for something so daring. And they were right about it; the only time I tried to wear open back dress was at the fundraising for the Red Cross, I helped Oprah to organize it, and everyone started at me like I had grown a second head. I promised to bring mango juice back then, but I was so excited about the dress that I forgot it in my limo, you see?”

Michael claps his hands and takes a deep breath. “Let me put this straight. You don't want to wear such revealing dress because of your parents disapproval, is that correct?”

Tahani nods. Jason, upon seeing she is very close to breaking into another melodrama tears, third in the last two hours, does the pocket Macarena and hands her a slightly used paper tissue. Tahani takes it and blows her nose without a comment, and then hands it back. “Thank you, Jason,” she mumbles.

“Well who cares?” Michael's voice is much louder than hers, as if he hadn't just witnessed the affectionate gesture. “It's not like we are inviting your family to the party. Besides, Tahani, you are your own person. You can wear what you want, not what others want. If you don't want to wear the dress because you don't like them, that's fine. But because somebody long time gone from your life and who has caused you so much pain had said you shouldn't? Nah, screw that.”

Bing! “Hello Michael and Tahani, yo my sweet honey cake.”

“Hi Janet,” they say in unison.

“Oh, those are very pretty dress. Do you think I should wear something more flashier at the party too? I would like to try. Anyway,” Janet's smile falters, “Michael, I am here to tell you that the last two files have just arrived. Eleanor thought that since you are, and now I quote her, the local pupeteering son of a beach, you should take a look at them and come up with a good plan.”

“Of course Janet, I'll be right there.” Bing! And Janet is gone, but not before Jason has somehow gotten into the possession of a bucket of popcorn. “Oh, and Tahani?” Michael turned around as he was about to walk out.

“Yes, I'm sorry that I-”

“I love what you have done with this place. I think this is the best looking party I have ever seen you throwing, and believe me, that means something. Because I have seen them all.” He flashes a smile and is out of the door.

  
  


_Bing!_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, feed the inky gremlin, that is me, some comments. The inky gremlin is hungry.


	3. Chapter 40: Just Between Us Architects (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The remaining two people are sent to "the Good Place" which the team isn't coping with exactly well, also a word about Chidi's soulmate.

Michael flips thorough the pages, teeth grit. Eleanor can swear she hears his anger friction as it spun around the office. Which is a weird thing to hear, especially because she is able to describe the sound only as searing white.

It is a very refined anger, too. It is not all over the place, like the tantrum she had this morning, no Michael's anger is focused like a needle, and once it finds what it is going to stab, it is going to stab deeply and in the most devastating way. She likes Michael, of course, they are friends, how could they not be after everything they have been thorough together, but she is still very afraid of him in this moment. She trusts him his anger isn't going to be focused on her, but it the possibility still scares her, because, well, it is a possibility and Michael is a very powerful immortal being as she is reminded right now.

Michael puts the folder down, finally, and takes a deep breath. “You know what really does it for me?” he asks, his voice breaking mid-sentence.

“That they found someone who is going to torture everyone at once?” Eleanor tries and kicks the table while she is swinging her legs. Janet has supplied her with lemon cake, which is nice, so now the office is full of crumble, mainly around Eleanor.

“No. It was my idea, that's what does it! These, all of these, are my methods! It is my system of calculation and picking of these victim-torturers, and it's my bloody damn work they are using!”

Eleanor looks at him and then at the mess of the office. There are papers pinned to the walls, paperclips all around and bottles of orange juice. “You know, big boy, I think that for a unfeeling demon you are keeping a lot of emotions under the lid. Let's start with getting this mess clean and then talking it out, maybe?”

Michael looks embarrassed which is something new. He waves his hands around and does some quirky gestures above a chair which he then falls into. “Eleanor, as much as I appreciate your offer to help me deal with this load of frustration I am working with, I have to decline. You have a lot on your back as it is.”

“Alright. Anyway, what are your plans for this fellow we've got here? I'm sure you have a plan, you are the person with smart plans here.” Eleanor hops off the table and takes the folder back from Michael, all the while she tries to keep a very respectful distance from the demon himself.

Michael grins. “I have three already and I'm working on a fourth one. But you are not going to like it. And Tahani's not going to like it. But it might just work.”

“It might work? As in, you are not certain?” Eleanor is a bit concerned.

The demon cleans his glasses and looks behind the main door. Indeed, there their problem is, creepily sitting in absolute silence, eyes closed. Jackal Louis Bauermaus, prefers to be called just Jack. He is... very defined in shape. And he is bright. Not exactly educated, but he is not stupid. Michael doesn't sigh, although he stops himself in the very last moment, and turns back around. “It's actually easy. We throw him at Tahani, and if it doesn't work... Then at you.”

“At me?”

“He's a ladies' man. Well, he's a gentlemen's man too, but Jason would be the perfect target for him, and I am, uh...” He flusters.

Eleanor crosses arms and pouts: “Uncomfortable with the idea? That's all of us, Mikey.”

“Please don't call me that,” he says with one hand raised, making it clear he doesn't want to delve into a debate about names. “No, well, that too. But what I meant is that I am very bad at this whole romance thing.”

The blondie looks him up and down and then up again and finally rests her eyes somewhat below the middle. Michael clears his throat nervously and hides everything from pelvis down behind the nearest chair.

“Oh, c'mon, Michael. You're not that bad looking and besides nobody is saying you have to bang him. Just be nice. Go on a date or something!”

“But that is exactly what I have, like, one experience with, and that experience is very bad!” It sounds almost hysterical.

“Fine,” Eleanor resigns, “then go for the sex. Make him believe that an angel would want him super badly, and, I don't seduce him into being a better person. That's what you are basically going to tell Tahani.” Ah, no, she wasn't resigning, she was deceiving.

“That's even worse. Dating, that I'd be terrible at. But sex is worse, because it's gross.” The chair creaked in protest at the firm grasp it found itself in.

“Ah, but you have an experience!”

“Not firsthand.”

There is a shot of awkward silence when Eleanor pretends that her shoelaces are terribly interesting and Michael fixes his already perfectly smooth hair with the help of the mirror and dusts his suit. Only the countdown on the wall ticks. Three minutes to the zero now, then Jack wakes up.

“Okay, listen,” Michael starts maybe a bit too fast while he rocks on his heels so he is harder to aim at in case Eleanor decides to throw paperclips at him again. “Fine. But only if he shows interest or if Tahani objects too much. And you don't have to try unless you want to, deal?”

“Deal,” Eleanor nods because that's the best.

“I asked Jason to play the silent Buddhihist monk who is in fact not a silent Buddhist monk, I think that will be good, if a bit irking for him. But now he knows it is an act, so I'm not worried. I only hope the fourth subject, I mean person, is going to fit in as his quote unquote soulmate.”

“It'll work out, somehow. Help me put this place in order, you have less then a minute. Hey, do you solve everything by snapping you fingers?”

Michael grin is the picture of innocence, which means he is definitely guilty of his answer being “almost everything.” What he says is: “Just give him the talk, I'll go and... warn Tahani.”

  
  


_Bing!_

  
  


“And this is Tahani Al-Jamil, she has already prepared a welcoming party for tonight, and as it happens, she is also your soulmate,” Eleanor finishes her speech.

Jack smiles with his teeth glistening in the sunshine brighter than should be possible and does that thing seen only in movies when he flips his bronze hair.

“Yo, Tahani! I'm Jack Bauermaus. And who is this funny guy next to you?”

Tahani puts hand on Jason's shoulder, the one actually covered, not the bare one, and smiles mildly: “This is Jianyu. He is a Buddhist monk and is keeping a vow of silence. Even here, in the afterlife, isn't it virtuous?”

“Does he now?” Jack looks impressed. “I'm sure he'll say something once I tell him all the cool stories about my dancing group.”

Jason, who has been frowning until now at Jack, perks up and nods his head with such a vigour it is in danger of coming off. Jack grins: “Yeah, I can tell you are excited, bro. So I'm from Weimar, that's in Germany, right, and I was a member of this 40 person dance crew. We called ourselves The Clover Couple at first, and I'm sure we were the best Irish tap-dancers in all Thuringia, maybe even whole Germany and-”

“Oh, Ele- huff, huff. Eleanor. Hi everyone.” Michael who has just ran up the hill to their little group bends in half and rests and pants for air. Tahani, Eleanor and Jason know he doesn't have to, but at least Jason in his old-new role takes sympathy and bows deeply until he nearly clashes foreheads with Michael.

Then at the same time they straighten their backs back up, so it looks like they are just very formal, something not so hard to believe given Michael's casual work outfit being something most of men prop up only at funerals and weddings.

Then Michael introduces himself as Eleanor's Assistant and Jack doesn't ask what it means or what it does, but he wiggles his eyebrows and nods that he understands that Eleanor needs a lot of assistance. He draws finger quotation marks around the word “assistance” and Michael's smile never falters but Jason, who is standing the closest to him in the moment, can feel very gory murder running thorough the demon's thoughts.

“No, nothing like that. We do not have an intimate relationship.”

Jack, that jackal, rubs his hands and does the hair flip thing again: “So that means you are a free game?”

Michael blinks a couple of times, but because Eleanor tilts her head and gives him a look from behind Jack's back, she has to stand tiptoe so Michael can see her, he turns his eyes away so the shocked blinking more resembles batting eyelids while shy.

“Actually, Jack, have you met your soulmate?”

“Oh yeah, Tahani! She's great, I'm sure we're gonna be the best bros, right Tahani?” Jack beams with positivity any Good Janet can only dream of.

“Right,” Michael answers instead, because he needs to push this conversation a certain way and quickly. “And because Jianyu's soulmate has just arrived, I suggest that he and Eleanor go back to the Architect office to welcome her so she has some time before the Neighbourhood meeting and the party. And, uh, I suppose that Tahani and I lead you back to your place.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jack laughs out of blue as if Michael has just told the third best joke in the world. “See you at the party you two. You are coming, right?”

“Of course we are. Who knows, maybe I can convince Jianyu to give a speech. Bye bye everyone, see you at Tahani's!” Eleanor takes Jason-now-Jianyu by hand and marches off back to the town while Michael leads Tahani and Jack the exactly other way.

  
  


_Bing!_

  
  


“So, what do you think?” Michael asks as they walk down the town and the sun slowly settles at what could be considered the west. He looks up to enjoy the sky. He considers it a true masterpiece, the colours were hard, yet he tried to imitate the Earth's sky as he remembered it, only making it better. The old fake Good Place had too bright colours. Not much, only by thre shades, but they were mismatched; the day-time blue was monotonous and too bright, the sunsets and sunrises had hard edges and no smooth change of colours, the night sky was actually dark green and not blue, etcetera etcetera. But here? Oh, he worked so hard on the sky colour palette! He was certain that the humans couldn't truly appreciate it because there were colours out of their perception such as supergreen or ellagi, and the Janet-people don't really care about anything that is not their role, but blast it, he was doing this bit for himself. He liked the Earth's sky. Whoever had made Earth during the Creation, they did a good job on the sky.

“I dated worse men,” Tahani looks over her shoulder to make sure Jack hasn't left the house they placed him in and isn't now listening to her talking about him. “He is witty. Charming, even. No exactly educated, but we are Chidi doing the ethic classes, then it isn't a problem also.”

“Glad to hear that,” Michael nods. “Otherwise I'd have to be his reason to improve. And before you start being excited about it, I am not going to get a relationship, fake or any other.”

Tahani makes a bit disappointed noise. “And here I was curious what you'd be like as a romantic partner.”

“Tahani, no.”

“Okay,” she shrugs and claps her hands together. There is a bit of an awkward silence before she giggles and says: “At least I get to wear the beautiful dress from you. I have decided, I want to look magnificent on the party.”

Michael frowns: “Yes, about that, I have to tell you-”

“Oh guys!” That is Jason hollering behind them. “There you are!”

Eleanor and Jason catch with them. “It went well, no problems expected. Great, let's visit Chidi.” She spits is out too fast for it to be in any proximity to truth, but Jason is a poor liar so he doesn't know and Tahani is still too excited about her dress to notice.

“Oh, I thought that we could do that after the neighbourhood meeting,” Michael says and looks briefly at Tahani as if to make sure she is still there. She is still there.

“But we are basically right in front of this door right now,” Eleanor presses it, “besides we are all here and I'm sure there isn't anyone among us who would like to miss his face, right?”

Jason mumbles: “Janet's not here.”

Bing!

“Hi Janet.”

“Hello everyone,” Janet smiles. “I overheard something about visiting Chidi. I think it is a great idea to make him meet his soulmate before the neighbourhood meeting.”

“Oh, oh, Janet, you know who is Chidi's soulmate?” Jason asks. “Is it me?”

“Yes, I know it. Michael has been very specific on that matter. And no, Jason, it is not you. You already have an assigned soulmate.”

“Yes,” Jason drawls out, “but she is so complicated.”

Tahani rises her eyebrows and toys with one of her rings, clearly she is curious. “Who are you playing soulmate for, Jason?”

“And here we are!” Eleanor basically jumps up the flight of stairs and begins rapidly knocking on the door. “Chidi, are you in there?”

A moment later a pair of glasses followed by a confused head pops out of the door, and then goes the rest of Chidi Anagoye. Eleanor for a moment is silent and just takes in the view, because the orange light of the falling sun is doing some very pretty pictures on Chidi.

“Hey. Oh, this is some large gathering. What's going on?” Chidi smiles like nothing is a big deal, which means that he is surprised and the presence of five people at once is a big deal for him.

“Well, we sort of thought that... you could meet your soulmate a little bit earlier than most of the other guys,” Eleanor starts carefully.

But Chidi cannot help himself and has to interrupt: “Holy moley, soulmates are real?”

“They very much are! Remember Michael?” She points behind her shoulder. Michael shuffles a few inches so he actually stands in the vague direction she is pointing in and gives an awkward wave and smile.

“Um. Yes? I do. I met him this morning. Wait,” Chidi starts giving off the vibe of a computer in dire need of rebooting, “are you telling me that my soulmate is an actual angel?”

“What?” Now it is Michael who needs rebooting, but he does it on his own and very quickly. “No! No, no, don't scare me like that. Firstly, I'm not an angel, that's a human term. And as for the rest, I am not your soulmate. But I have brought your soulmate with me.”

“Uh-huh.” Chidi nods, lips slightly parted. He understands each of the words separatedly, but it just somehow doesn't add up into a statement he could decipher.

“I have told you that I used to work in the Good Place for dogs. The Dog Place.” Michael continues, making his way in front of Eleanor. (Jason in the background gasps twice; once because he was blessed with the best pun he has heard in years, the second one because Tahani elbowed him in stomach before he could whisper “oh my God” loud enough to alert everyone in the Neighbourhood he is not a Buddhist monk sworn to silence.)

“Yes, you have.” Chidi still doesn't getting and is letting it to stop him.

“So it is my pleasure to introduce you to René.” Michal bends and picks up something from the ground which everyone else, besides Janet of course, could swear wasn't there mere seconds ago.

That something is a puppy. It is pitch black with stupid floppy ears and idiotic fluffy fur, its very pink tongue is poking out, tail wiggles very excitedly. It is bound to grow very big one day, but now it is just the cutest puppy Chidi can recall seeing.

“René,” Michael speaks to the dog as serious as ever, “This is Chidi Anagoye, he is your soulmate and you are supposed to be there for him always, you understand?” He hands René to Chidi.

“Hi there, René.” Chidi is melting like chocolate in a hot afternoon, the puppy is just too sweet and the human too weak to withstand it.

“I had to fill in some paperwork to allow for smooth transfer for René from the Dog Place, but I see it was all worth it,” Michael speaks lies as thought it is his mother tongue. “He gave the name himself by the way, he ate a biography of Descartes and thought he should somehow memorize his greatest and also last feat he had done on Earth.”

Chidi fails to respond, because he is too occupied nuzzling René's ears and booping his snout and also gibbering absolute nonsenses to him.

“Well, very well, I think this was the absolute bullseye. Michael, Janet is everything ready for the first Neighbourhood meeting?” Eleanor shuts the door before the sweetness gives her a cavity.

“Almost,” Janet leans away from Jason, nobody really wants to know what they were doing, “only a couple of minutes are required for the final preparations, which is also exactly how long it takes for everyone to gather there.”

“Great, so you two sort out the little details, I have a speech to rehearse and... Jason and Tahani, you two know what to do, right?”

Tahani and Jason both nod. Then Jason stops nodding and starts shaking his head, but nobody pays it any attention as they all scatter to their respective tasks, in the case of Janet with a loud cheerful bing.

“Oh, bummer,” Jason grumbles and chooses a random direction to walk into. After he hits the wall, he picks a less random direction.

  
  


_Bing!_

  
  


“Tahani, I need to talk to you.”

“Not now, Michael. I want to listen to Eleanor's speech!” Tahani tries to wring her elbow free from Michael's grasp, but it is surprisingly firm for such an old-looking man. Then, Tahani has to remind herself that it is only a suit costume and Michael is in fact much older and also immortal.

“Oh, she's going to give a great speech, I wrote it for her, but listen-”

Tahani wails: “I should be sitting next to Jack and the people are cramming up all the places already. I _promised_ him.”

“No, listen, this is important,” Michael starts again and is making elaborate gestures with his free hand, the right one, to stress the importance of the situation. “It's about the dress-”

“You don't need to worry, Michael, I am past that fear. I'm going to wear it and be as confident as ever!”

“That's exactly the problem, because-”

“Oh no,” Tahani breathes out absolutely devastated, her eyes focused on something behind Michael's head.

Michael turns around. “Oh yes, exactly. I was trying to tell you, but somebody always interrupted me. If you are still feeling that confident to wear those dress while Kamilah is there, I'm here for you, you hear? But surely we can find something different for you to wear.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feed me comments, please?


	4. The Buried Hatchet (part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bad Place sent Kamilah Al-Jamil. Tahani is concerned about herself, there is an exploration of afterlife make-up, and we meet an inconveniently named bartender.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's always the same: I think "this isn't enough material, I can stuff all of this into one chapter," and then bamf! suddenly 3K words and I am just nearing the middle of whatever it is I wanted to say in 2K.
> 
> Additionally, I’m listening to The Good Place: The Podcast, so I’m now taking my writing advice from there. All I’m missing is 13 another monitors

A screen pops up on the podium and six humans and three hundreds and fifteen artificially created people, of whom one is actually a dog, look up at it with genuine interest. The screen shows a giant Eleanor with one of her most honest smiles, which should be a dead giveaway she is faking it.

She speaks in her most soothing voice: “Hello, everyone, and welcome to your first day in the afterlife! You were all, simply-put: good people, who lived good lives.”

Michael glances at the screen and smirks to himself: “I can’t believe Janet and I had to hammer those lines into her for three hours straight.”

“Michael!” Tahani hisses at him.

“What, am I not allowed to appreciate the hard work paying off? Not even a little bit?” He puts his hand over his chest where most people would have a heart, but somehow Tahani doubts he physically possesses one.

She rolls her eyes. “I only thought we have more pressing things to discuss. What are we going to do about Kamilah? Things are going to go horrible.”

Michael is trying to keep it nonchalant: “It will be fine. You pick a different dress, you have so many of them. Or we can ask Janet to give you one which has its back closed. And we just roll with it.”

“Okay, let me rephrase that.” Tahani pinches her nose. “ _I_ am going to go horrible.”

“-with deadly chemicals? Uh oh, that’s negative four thousand six hundreds and ten! But it’s not only big things,” the giant Eleanor in the screen stresses loudly while gesturing wildly at the pictures of a polluted river and one of a middle-schooler preventing a toddler to wander into a traffic.

Tahani risks a brisk look at the back of Kamilah’s head. She is sitting in the second row, holding Jason, or perhaps more precisely Jianyu, by his elbow, and seems to be completely hypnotized by the introduction clip.

From the screen speaking in Eleanor’s voice they can hear: “Every sandwich you ate, every time you bought a magazine, every single thing you did created some amount of bad or good.”

Tahani stops listening and returns her attention back to Michael. “I know myself, it’s an old habit. I’ll try to best her, I will be horrible. I will… I will ruin it all!” She sobs and sheds one single tear.

“Oh, Tahani, Tahani Al-Jamil. You won't do no such a thing.” It sounds vaguely threatening and Tahani cannot help herself but flinch. Upon noticing this, Michael adds in much a softer tone: “Because I will be here for you and with you, and if you try to be a horrible person, I'll stop you, because we both are going to know that you wouldn't want to actually do it, okay?” He squeezes her shoulder to give his words some weight.

Being as tall as she is, Tahani doesn't have to look up at him, only to turn her head twenty-one centimetres to the left, so she does that instead, wipes the tears off her face and smiles. “Thank you Michael. That's the third most threatening kindness I have been given.”

“Is that... good?”

“It's very kind.

“Oh.”

“And, um, Michael?” Tahani rubs her hands together and looks down again. “I'm sorry I called you a manipulative son of a beach today. I didn't really mean it, but I shouldn't have said that all the same. Especially because I didn't mean it I shouldn't have said it.” She huffs out a little air. It took a lot of personal bravery to say that out loud and Tahani isn't really sure if she is feeling better. She also doubts if stirring this water is going to clean it.

The man just shrugs it, which makes Tahani furious; how can he hear such a sincere apology and just shrug it off? “Oh, well, it's a very accurate description. Of course, I have no coastal line or a canine in my family tree, as I have no parents, but I understand it is a manner of speech. So, you know, no harm done and no offence taken.”

“-rewards of that good life. And you won't be alone! Your true soulmate is here too! That's right – soulmates are real. One of the other people in the Neighbourhood-” Whatever the projection was saying next got lost in excited murmuring of the crowd.

Tahani doesn't listen to it. If she was furious before, now she is furious and confused, which is always a dangerous combination, and also the only two emotions you ever need. “No, Michael, that makes it even worse!” She is trying not to shout as not to draw attention, but her hissing isn't exactly subtle either. “We are your friends and we like you. We shouldn't be saying such things about you. Eleanor maybe, she is a bit blunt with her expression, but I definitely shouldn't! You... You shouldn't let people just... Ugh.” She shakes her hands in frustration and tries to grasp on the sentence somehow.

It takes a moment and a deep breath for her to continue: “Michael, maybe you are not a good person, because you are a demon and you can't be good, or I don't know what the rules are for that. But you certainly are not a _bad_ person. And you can't let people talk poorly about you. Especially people you care about.”

“Well,” Michael clasps his hands and tilts head with a smile as he always does when he presents what he considers an impenetrable argument or a horribly devastating punchline, “but what if those people are right?”

Tahani blinks a couple of times and pulls back, because she needs some space and time to digest this. Then she puts on her plastic polite grimace and her overly saccharine voice and says: “I would have slapped you right across the face if I thought it would help something. But as it is, I think we need to work hardly on your sense of self-evaluation and self-esteem.”

The crowd erupts into an applause, so of course Tahani and Michael join in, and only once it's over they find out that the screen has popped shut and the short movie is over.

Michael leans to Tahani: “Whatever it is you have in mind, it has to wait. You have a party to host.”

  
  


_Bing!_

  
  


Kamilah is not sure what to expect, really. It is a new feeling to her, to be caught off-guard. No, not off-guard, simply unprepared. And the feeling isn’t new, it only hasn’t made an entrance since she was, oh, thirteen? She doesn’t know what to be prepared for. She has never been dead before! Granted, there were two or three times when she wished she was, but that is hardly the same thing.

What does she know? Her sister is throwing the party, therefore the dress code is “as fancy as possible” and Kamiah considers a butterfly-wing pantsuit before discarding the idea as a) environmental hostility, b) not matching her complexion, c) a subconscious attempt to put one over Tahani which was totally uncalled for. Tahani was a good person, a great person even, given that she made it here into the Good Place, she raised a lot for charities, there was no need for the two of them to strife.

Kamilah settles for a red-and-saffron pantsuit in the end, the one with shorter trouserlegs, and beaded sandals. She weaves her hair in a complicated braid and then stabs at it with a fork until it turns into a sparrow’s nest resembling mess. She uses yellow eyeshadow for her left eye and yellow lipstick for the upper lip, and the other remaining half she does in crimson.

The make-up drawer in her house (Jianyu has claimed the garden shed and he seems to be extremely happy in there, which Kamilah doesn’t understand but whatever makes her soulmate happy) is a curious thing. All lipstics are either metallic or glitter or two-shaders or a combination of the aforementioned. The eyeshadow palette is very rich, some of those colours are ones she has never seen before. The mascara is a work of miracle, she hasn’t had a less problematic thing in her hand. There are a couple of brushes and weird cream-like things she doesn’t know what to use for. She has asked Jianyu, but he only shook her head. Of course, all of them are labelled in black writing on gold casing, but the letters don’t remind Kamilah of any language.

And there isn’t a highlighter.

“Janet?” she asks quietly with her eyes focused on the grand decorated mirror in front of her.

Bing! Janet appears right behind her. Kamilah expected a trick, but no, she really comes out of nothing into something. The not-girl not-robot not-human person speaks: “Hi there! What can I do for you?”

“Hello, Janet,” she turns around and smiles back at her. “I wanted to ask you have a highlighter I could borrow.”

“I do not have a highlighter,” Janet beams with her usual cheer, “because I don’t own anything. But I can make a highlighter for you and you can keep it! Here!” And she hands the highlighter to Kamilah.

She takes it with a weak smile. It is a neon yellow one, her favourite. “Thank you, Janet, but this is not what I asked for.”

“I do not understand,” Janet folds her hands behind her backs again. “This is a highlighter and you wanted a highlighter. According to my collected data, this is the colour which makes you most satisfied and draws your attention the most. You highlighted vast majority of texts important to you in colours similar to this one. Of course, you couldn’t use colours exactly like this one, because this one is perfect and your old highlighters were not.”

“Yes, Janet, I appreciate all the thoughtfulness which went into the highlighter you have just given to me,” Kamilah sighs, “but I had in mind a different tool. For make-up.”

Janet tilts her head, but Kamilah is in a bit of a hurry and doesn’t want to bother with this. She dismisses Janet and glues two asymmetrical curvy lines of rhinestones along her cheekbones.

  
  


_Bing!_

  
  


The house is, simply put, opulent. While Michael is far from sticking by the rule of not fixing what is not broken, he does not break what isn't fixed, and he keeps to what he has tested himself. Not like anyone besides him appreciates more than half of this fake Good Place being recreated from his memory. Either the people are not real, do not remember, are in fact new to this place, or are Janet, who... Now Michael isn't sure and he stops in the hallway pondering whether or not is this Janet (his Janet) advanced enough to be able to comprehend such a complex feeling as appreciation.

Everything was going smoothly, so far. The party, anyway. Balloons everywhere, checked,people dressed up very fancily, checked, decent music, checked, shrimps, checked, small food for small talk, checked, backup shrimps in case Eleanor finds things getting difficult, checked, no open fire, checked, the only person who is supposed to give speech is him. Good, good.

He reminds himself and straightens his back, cracks his knuckles and neck. The body is stiff, he's over stretched it and he knows it. But with all the stress and work in the recent time with this new Neighbourhood, he hasn't found a moment for himself to take a breather let alone maintenance time. And even if he has, his nerves wouldn't allow him to take that time properly. Which is why the best he could do was to lock himself in the workroom for an hour or so and conceal the mess he is. Once the party is over, he can actually sit down and rest for a moment, he needs that like baked potatoes need salt.

Michael fixes his bow tie, which doesn't actually need fixing, and looks at the people around him. Jason is already at the bar, the saffron-and-red robe makes him really stand out of the crowd. And next to him in the similarly vivid pantsuit is Kamilah engaged in a lively conversation with... Tahani! Tahani on the dress he made, or rather _combined_ for her! Their voices don't sound angry, he can clearly hear Tahani laughing.

He proceeds to investigate.

And that's how he founds himself squeezed between Kamilah and Jason and wrapped in their arms like a gift. Jason is totally blowing up his role of being a Buddhist monk because he is already fairly intoxicated, but he isn't speaking, so at least somebody from above is watching and has at least a pinch of mercy the can spare on Michael. Still, it's sort of weird when tranquil Jianyu has his arm wrapped around your shoulders. It is slightly less weird when a slightly alternative artist in every sense of the words is doing the same from your left. Michael realizes he is the only sober among the people he knows and who are real, and for the sake of his speech yet to come he has to remain so.

“Hey there, angel,” Kamilah giggles, while Tahani elbows her and whispers not-so-quietly something. Michael catches his name but that is about everything he can make out of it.

“Hello Tahani, Kamilah, Jianyu,” he nods the last name to his right. The young man there looks a bit confused but then he remembers that it's his cover name, and makes himself comfortable on Michael's shoulder. Michael adds to his list of _Things (He) Learned the Hard Way:_ Jason is sleepy and strangely craving physical comfort when intoxicated with alcohol. Then in a smaller script he adds to it a note that if he ever goes out drinking with Jason Mendoza, not that it is likely to happen, his jacket should have padded shoulders so it would be at least a bit comfortable for at least one person involved.

“Hi there!” The cheer is nearly enough to be Janet, but the voice has the wrong pitch. And comes from far too low to be Janet's. Michael focuses on its owner who is found on the other side of the bar.

So far he has only once pretended to be a barman, but he has done his research about it. Technically the small fragile-seeming woman is his colleague. She smiles brightly and asks: “Never dreamed of handling a party this big the first time I start mixing it up.” She has a soft east European accent, and Michael thinks: Janet did really a good job making all those various people.

“What can I get for you?”

“Um.” He hesitates. He shouldn't be drinking anything containing alcohol. But he is tired. Very, very tired. “Could I get an iced antimatter with a bit of vanilla syrup?”

The woman nods: “Sure thing. Double shot, or normal?” She disappears as she bends down for a glass and ice. Michael politely asks for the double shot, thanks her and then enjoys his vanilla flavoured antimatter with ice. It's good, although it fails to wake him up.

“So, Janet, you've been a Red Cross worker?” Tahani pushes her empty glass to the barmaid for a refill which she receives promtly.

“Nuh-huh,” she shakes her head. “Doctors Without Borders. But it's the same difference. Helped people, did medicine, caught one in the head when the US army felt like they knew better for a war-lost children then we do. Classic cliché, story of my life.”

“And now you are a bartender in the Heaven,” finishes Kamilah. “Is that that your standards for the eternal paradise are, I don't know, low? Or, you know what I mean Janet. Why are you here behind the bar while everyone else here is having fun?”

“Ooooh, I am having fun!” Janet who is not the actual all-knowing Good Janet claps her hands and refills Michael's cup of antimatter with extra vanilla foam on the top. “I never was one to party much, so I am actually really relieved that I don't have to be all social-social. If I want to get out of this chit-chat, I can pretend I am busy, it's awesome. And I always wanted to have my own bar.” She wipes the counter and leans against it as she slips into a secretive whisper-like voice: “I've never had a chance to have a normal life, I was always stuck somewhere helping people. And of course, that was important and somebody had to do it. But now there isn't anyone to help, so I can be a regular person.”

“Good luck figuring out how to be one. I've never got the hang of it,” Tahani says between the sips of her virgin mojito with full battery charger flavoured syrup instead of mint. In fact it's a new dring called Virgin Batterjito.

Kamilah suddenly pulls away and her attention snaps to Michael. “Hey, angel, a question on you.”

“Not an angel,” Michael mutters, “but ask away.”

“What is this?” Kamilah pulls out a brush resembling tube with gold casing and black writing on it. “I asked Tahani, she's the make-up expert here, not like her perfect face needs it, but she hasn't got a clue what this is. But you're Eleanor's Assistant, so I thought you could know. Or no, wait, you're a dude, you haven't got an inkling either.”

Michael chuckles without humour and takes the brush. He knows instantly what it is, especially because he was the one to design Kamilah's house (or everything else here for that matter). “Gender stereotypes and their application to immortal beings aside, this thing is an aura concealer. It's like a regular concealer, just for your aura instead of skin.” He then pauses and looks over Kamilah's shoulder as he catches a spike of growing tension from the back of the room. “Right, I forgot. Humans. Only three dimensional vision. My bad.”

“Oh, I do see auras just fine,” Kamilah assures him, “I've just never seen a concealer for it before.”

“Well, it's very practical when you hit your teen centuries, because most people get their aura super dotted or swirly at the time and the public looks at you weird.” He gulps down the antimatter, because whatever is happening at the other side of the room, it requires his attention. Things are getting significantly heavier there. “If you want, I can drop by tomorrow and help you with applying that? Given that nothing will need my attention more, of course.”

“Sure, sounds lovely. Jianyu will surely appreciate seeing my aura more steady and not a turbulent current, right, love?”

Jason hums something and smiles brightly. To both Michael and Tahani it is clear he hasn't caught a word of their conversation, but he isn't letting that to stop him in participating in it silently.

“Oh, Janet?”

Bing! “Hello Michael, I was just upstairs refilling the chips. What can I do for you?”

“Oh, no, I meant the bartender Janet. But thank you for showing up anyway.”

“Ah, my bad. I'll go back to my work then.” Janet then frowns slightly and then she asks: “Do you think lime crackers are better than mustard crackers?” She rises her hands, each one of them holding a bag of crackers of different flavours.

Jason pokes both of the bags with a solemn nod and then clasps his hands as if in a prayer.

“Oh, of course!” Janet lights up. “A mix of both, so one can appreciate the separate flavours when they find them in this unexpected combination. You are such a wise man, Jianyu.” Bing! And she's away and gone.

“Um, bartender Janet?” Michael tries it again, ears perked up for another cheerful chime which doesn't come.

“Yes chief?”

“Could I get a refill of that delicious antimatter?”

“Sure!”

“Thank you.”

“Happy to help!” Janet waves at him as he leaves to check out the problematic corner in the back, but since he has his back turned, he doesn't see it.

“Hey, Tahani?” Kamilah chugs down another cocktail shrimp from her cocktail. “Have I told you how beautiful your dress are? They are beautiful. Especially on you. You ought to wear such daring outfits more often, really.”

Tahani blushes and bows her had to her glass. “Thank you. Um, would you mind if I showed up tomorrow to try out those aura concealers and whatnots too? I mean, since we buried our hatchet and all that? I don't mean to impose, just-”

Her sister grins: “Sure, I'd love to get you over.” Then her face drops. “Oh. Fork.” She hides her head in the nook between her elbow and the counter. Her shoulders are trembling.

“Kamilah?”

She looks up at Tahani. Her make-up isn't even smeared and she is, in fact, laughing. “That's what I should have named it. The Buried Hatchet. Oh god, do you think I can issue that _post mortem?_ ”

 

 

_Bing!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feed me comments? Me hungry. You has comments?


End file.
